Her
by Titanic-fanatic
Summary: "You said nothing?" he continued, a hint of intrigue pulling his voice upwards. "It was too soon" the tenth incarnation breathed, adopting the same questioning glance he was now receiving. "It's been too long" he replied. Set at the end of Day of the Doctor. Ten confronts Eleven about Her; the Bad Wolf, the woman he loves, the one they had both just seen and remained silent.Oneshot


**Her**

"Well, we need a new destination because...I don't want to go" he said, hovering in the doorway of the Tardis. His fingers gripped the frame as he went to step over the threshold. At this a nagging feeling resurfaced, it had been there since his other self had mentioned her and he knew it wasn't going to go away unless he faced it. With an inhale he backtracked, shutting the door with a sudden upheaval of determination.

With resolution set features his brown orbs latched onto his future incarnation. A curious and somewhat confused pair of green eyes met his whilst fingers rapped on the china cup they held. The Doctor looked to the new companion at his side, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. She seemed nice enough, a flicker of the fight in her brown gaze but that was all. A _flicker_, a shadow, a whisper of what had come before. She could never surpass that, nor dream to match it. Clara wasn't to know, but surely _he_ must remember.

"Umm Clara, could I have a word with him?" he asked casually "...time lord _stuff" _he added ambiguously, tugging on his ear in fidgety thought. He sensed his other self shift at this, but only so marginally as for him to notice.

"Sure" the girl obliged, uncrossing her arms and walking toward the exit "I'll take a look around"

"No wandering off" his future self called at which she whipped her head back around the corner, hanging onto the wall with a furrowed brow "_Off_, off...oh you know what I mean" he dismissed at which she smiled, rolling her eyes before disappearing.

The tenth man watched the exchange, noting how comparable she was in the slightest of ways. That hint of attitude and sense of mischief, then again he seemed to always attract those characteristics, perhaps that was why he always ended up in such situations. Forever was he stuck between a girl and a box. The sound of her fading footsteps brought him back to the moment and the knowing look he was being subjected to.

"I know what you want to talk about" Eleven stated "And I do not wish to discuss it" he continued, setting his tea cup on the bench.

"She is but a shade of her" Ten said in defiant whisper.

"_She _has saved us in more ways than you can imagine" he reprimanded defensively, reeling in his tone before it could escape him. He checked himself, realising he had stormed up to his counterpart in fury. It was then he saw the pain emanating from the hazel gaze. The grief was still raw and burning, festering in his mind and occupying every part of him. Truly, the man before him was the one who regrets. The familiarly haunting look unhinged something in that instant. The present Doctor wasn't sure what it was precisely, but his anger subsided as a consequence, comprehension taking its place. His shoulders softened as did his voice "You saw her too, didn't you?" he stated more than asked.

The tall man in the long coat nodded, swallowing hard. There was a glimpse of light in his eyes at his statement, but it diminished as swiftly as it had appeared, leaving the hollow shell of a stare in its wake.

"You said nothing?" he continued, a hint of intrigue pulling his voice upwards.

"It was too soon" the tenth incarnation breathed, adopting the same questioning glance he was now receiving.

"It's been too long" he replied.

Silence swelled between them as Ten wandered to his Tardis thoughtfully, he seemed preoccupied with a thought he wasn't ready to share, even with himself. The eleventh man observed him, noting the weight on his shoulders and turbulence under his calm strokes of the ship. Every action held a static, an electric charge undulating and forever mounting, the pressure was almost too much to witness.

"How long?" asked Ten, lulling his head to the side, the nonchalance of his motion didn't coincide with the desperation in his voice. It unnerved his future self, to see how vulnerable he had been. He had forgotten how it hurt and how he had ached. For years, for centuries, he had thought of nothing but her, just hoping in his lamentation it would all end and he would gather dust. A just end for the useless relic he was. Eleven had no choice but to look at the ground; there were no words to console the man nor explain that his deepest desire would never come to fruition. He couldn't break himself in such a way '_never cruel' _he reminded himself.

"400 years is all it seems to take with you" Ten snuffed dismissively. He had mistaken his lack of response for forgetting. There was partial truth in the assumption; the loss was beginning to wear on his own hearts once more, he had lost touch with the sensation. Then again, it didn't seem correct to mourn her. This face did not know her, she did not know it their hands had never interlaced and that was the end of it. All of a sudden Eleven felt as though he had never been more separate from his previous incarnation. She was living a happy life with him, day after day; the one adventure he could never have.

"People change" he began, consoling his present self more than anyone.

"No!" Ten shouted, whipping round to face him. His voice reverberated through the room, ricocheting off the walls and the Tardises, ringing in their ears "No we don't. Not with her, not R-" he continued, stalking up to him, his face square to his.

"Don't say her name" Eleven interrupted, lifting his hand.

"_Why_, does it make it real again, make her exist? I seem to just sweep these things under the carpet nowadays or bury them so deep they never see the light of day again" he raged.

"It doesn't _need_ saying" he echoed quietly, remembering.

"You're lying, lying through your teeth like that day on Daleg ulv stranden" Ten accused.

"It wasn't even her, it was the bad wolf, the conscience of _the_ _moment!_" Eleven chastised.

Ten couldn't argue with that, even he knew it was not Rose; not his beautiful human. Defeated, he pursed his lips, turning away with a grunt of rage. He seethed the noise, clutching at his head through his hair and dragging his digits downward. Eleven simply watched as his heaving shoulders slowed and the electricity emanating from the Time Lord subsided. He debated speaking but acknowledged there was nothing to be done. With that his previous incarnation ceased his two step pacing, the one that likened a caged animal, and faced him.

"Do I see her again?" Ten asked calmly, meeting his own eyes in the quiet.

"You can't" Eleven returned resolutely.

"Do I see her again?" he repeated pointedly, implying how much control he was exercising in his persistence. He emphasised each word slowly, letting it resonate.

"New Year's Eve, 2005, the Powell Estate" Eleven answered over him, indignantly.

The tall thin man fell quiet, absorbing the information. That was before they had met, meaning...meaning she would never return to the universe. Part of it made him happy, _she_ would be happy and safe. The other part, the part that longed to hold her in his arms once more, well it was breaking into pieces. As he could sense his composure crumbling, the man inhaled in acceptance before swallowing hard. Wordlessly, he went to go back to his Tardis once more.

Again, he delayed entering the ship.

"Do you think we'll ever see Rose again?" he asked, with a sardonic fools hope in his hearts as he stared at the ground.

"If there is one thing I believe in" Eleven said, pausing as his lips retraced his own words with an old truth "I believe in her"

The man in the overcoat looked to him with a sad smile, which he reflected back. Melancholy plaguing their features, the men remained still in the gallery "If you see her, tell her from me..." the younger of the two bid before shooting one last glance at the painting of their homeland. He didn't finish his sentence, not out of forgetfulness but out of remembrance. If he was ever to utter those words it would be to her and her alone, if she was not here he would not dare speak them and ruin the sanctity of such a proclamation.

He received an obliging nod from his counterpart and shut the Tardis door behind him.

Eleven stood in the empty room, crossing his arms uncomfortably and watching the Tardis vanish. The sound filled his vacant chest with a deep sigh, it pulled his attentions to the painting of the war. He remained in his solitude for a moment longer, allowing his mind to wander of its own accord when suddenly something distracted him. It was the sound of a man entering the room.

_'Ah, the Curator' _


End file.
